Lost and Won
by amazonqueen03
Summary: When all is said and done, everybody's lost and won. The Konoha 11 have gone through a war and come out mostly unscathed, and now it's their children who have center stage. OC-centric, post-699 AU. Neji lives. Hints of NejiTen, InoSai, SasuSaku, and NaruHina. Also: angst.
1. Prologue

A/N: This is an OC as main characters fanfic. In case you didn't read the summary, I'd like to state again, **this is a post-699 AU. That means that it DOES NOT follow canon.** I take some elements of chapter 700, but the Gaiden never happens in this. Thank you.

* * *

 _ **Prologue**_

 _October 10_

 _ **KONOHA 11: WHERE ARE THEY NOW? PT.1**_

 _Marriages, positions and children after the war._

 **By: Yamada Hanako** for the **_Konoha Shinobi Connection_**

The war is over – has been for 8 years. The Konoha 11, now 25 or 26, have long since reconciled with Uchiha Sasuke. Their world is back to the way it was before, with a few exceptions: their marriages for one, and their children.

Uchiha Sasuke and his wife Uchiha Sakura (nee Haruno) live in the Uchiha family mansion, with five year old daughter Jomei and two year old daughter Sarada. Sasuke is now a revered ANBU captain, and Sakura is the Head of the Hospital – a position inherited from her shishou, Tsunade-sama.

Our new Hokage, Uzumaki Naruto and wife Uzumaki Hinata (formerly Hyūga heiress) have just moved into the Hokage Residence, with five year old daughter Emiko, and two year old son, Boruto. Hinata's a jonin, and Naruto had finally achieved his goal of Seventh Hokage – although, not before his sensei had a chance at it first.

Hyūga Neji and his teammate Tenten are happily married, and with the elimination of main and branch in the Hyūgas, Hyūga Neji is now clan head. They have one daughter, five year old Chisaki.

Similarly, Nara Shikamaru and wife Temari of the Sand have two children – daughter Tetsumi, five, and son Shikadai, two. Temari is a Konoha jonin, having left her village of Suna to marry Shikamaru, and Shikamaru is both the Jonin commander, like his late father, Shikaku, and Hokage Adviser.

Yamanaka Ino and her husband, Sai, have two children as well: five year old Nina and two year old Inojin. Ino is head of the Yamanaka family and interrogator for the T&I division. Sai? Well, he's a regular jonin now, and generally serves as a chunin exam proctor as well.

These five families lead happy lives, older children in the Academy and their younger children having fun as toddlers. Konoha is finally at peace, the Akatsuki are gone, and perpetual peace seems to be on the horizon.

Today, on the eighth anniversary of the end of the Fourth Shinobi War, this reporter signs off. Happy anniversary!

 _Yamada Hanako has been writing for the Konoha Shinobi Connection for four years, since she was 22. She is a society columnist, reporting on the ninja families of Konoha, and the Konoha 11 in particular. Yamada Hanako is the author of_ Ninja War, Ninja Savage _and is considered something of a civilian expert on shinobi, especially the shinobi of Konoha._

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A/N: Some clarifications: I don't usually put an A/N at the beginning like that, chapters will generally be a little longer than this little news article piece, and the Konoha Shinobi Connection is a magazine/newspaper in Konoha that basically connects shinobi and civilians. Yamada Hanako is not our main character, nor is the main format of this story news articles.

Reviews are appreciated, I will use flames for my fireplace. Thank you!

\- amazonqueen03


	2. Chapter 1

**Six Years Old**

(reminder insert line)

"Daddy?" Uchiha Jomei's six-year-old voice couldn't have been quieter, but her father was by her side in a moment. Accustomed to reading his expressions, she could see easily the strain in his face. Uchiha Sasuke had never been an expressive man, but his oldest daughter was also his favorite one, and so he was a little more open around her.

Well, that, and he was in the hospital. He was more than used to being here, but when it was her mother in the ward he just became overly worried. Funny, because her mother had given birth twice before anyways.

"I get to name him, right?" A smile, if it could be called that, was offered to her. "Of course." As if on cue, a doctor came out of the hospital room. "It's a healthy boy, sir." The doctor said politely. The name of 'sir' was probably out of habit rather than fear, although it was hard to be sure. Uchiha Sasuke was as awe-inspiring at 26 as he was at 17.

From behind the still swinging ward door, they heard a small cry. Jomei and her father entered the ward to see an exhausted Uchiha Sakura with a squalling, little pink bundle in her arms. Jomei peered curiously at it. She didn't remember Sarada being that small and pink when she was born, but then again, she had only been three when Sarada was born and couldn't remember much of anything from then.

Then, she hugged her mother. "Hi, Mama! Hi, baby!" she said. Her mother offered her a content smile. "No name yet?" Looking astonishingly insulted at this assumption, she shook her head. "Of course he has a name," she said. "His name's Ichiro." This was all spoken like it was obvious, which to her it was.

"Naturally." her father muttered. Her mother suddenly glared. "What was that?" Jomei giggled as her father shook his head. It was nice to have her parents to herself now, with Sarada at Aunt Ino's house. Whenever this kind of teasing happened, Sarada got exceedingly confused.

Suddenly, Jomei felt a swooping sensation as her father's strong arms lifted her into a bland, nondescript hospital chair. The cheeky grin on her face didn't fade as her father pulled up another chair and continued muttering to himself.

"She's such a Naruto."

(reminder insert line)

It was so loud at the Hyūga manor tonight, Emiko thought, watching the adults from a stone bench. Every six months, the Konoha 11 held a get-together to have fun and chat, while having the advantage of keeping their children occupied with each other and some blunt toy kunai. Tonight, it was her Uncle Neji's turn, and so the party took place at the Hyūga manor.

Which explained why it was so loud, because Emiko could hear her father loudly telling jokes further away in the garden, and her best friend Jomei's mother equally loudly telling him to shut up Naruto that's not appropriate for children's ears.

Her mother would likely have chimed in, but Emiko knew that her mother had gone in to take care of her baby sister, Himawari, and besides, Emiko was used to tuning out her father's antics by now. At the Academy, they'd learned about all the other Hokage, and they were all pretty dignified. (Most of them, anyways. She couldn't say anything about her Grandmother Tsunade.) So how had her daddy become Hokage? Emiko didn't know, but maybe Jomei did.

Jomei knew a lot of things, usually because her parents talked to her that sort of stuff. Speaking of Jomei, where was her dark-haired friend?

Two childish hands dropped onto her shoulders. "Boo!" Emiko jumped off the bench, then turned around. "Jomei!" she said reproachfully. Uchiha Jomei, in all her six-year-old glory, stood there grinning at her, long dark hair pulled back in a neat ponytail no doubt done by her mother, dark eyes filled with good humor.

"Sorry, 'Miko." Jomei shrugged, not really sorry at all. "It was just some fun." Jomei walked around the bench, coming to a stop next to Emiko. "So. Whattaya want to do?" Although Jomei had just as much blue blood as Emiko did, the older girl had a tendency to slur her words when in casual company.

Emiko shrugged. "I don't know. Do you know how Daddy became Hokage?" The abrupt change of subject didn't faze Jomei at all, who sat down and patted the spot on the bench next to her. "Well, not really. But the books in Daddy's study-" At this point, Emiko's eyes widened.

"You go in your father's study?" This was a daring crime if there ever was one, but Jomei waved it off and continued. "All his important stuff are on high shelves anyways, it's not like I could get anything actually secret. But the books in his study say that the Hokage is the strongest ninja in the village!"

This was accompanied by a dramatic throwing open of the arms, and Jomei's forearm nearly hit Emiko's nose. Emiko pushed Jomei's arm away from her delicately. "But your father is super strong, Jomei. Why isn't he Hokage?"

This muted Jomei almost immediately. Both girls knew that there was something about Uchiha Sasuke's past, but Jomei was the only one of the two that knew most of the truth. "Well. Hokage has to be good with people, and stuff. And loyal to the village." But Jomei was quick to follow up, waving her hands frantically. "Not that Daddy isn't loyal! He just doesn't talk a lot."

Emiko nodded. That made sense. Every time she saw Jomei's father, he looked pretty scary. Besides, he had one arm, and unlike Emiko's daddy, hadn't replaced it. So he probably couldn't be Hokage. "Anyways, let's go find someone to play with."

Jomei stood and so did Emiko, and they were about to wander into the adults' area when a shuriken went flying into a bush next to them. They both froze, and the thrower of the toy shuriken appeared. "Sorry about that." The girl said sheepishly. She had long black hair, and Byakugan eyes widened, clearly mortified.

Emiko had no idea who this was, but her face looked familiar. "It's fine. You should see Tetsumi." Jomei said amiably. "You know her, right? Nara Tetsumi? Anyways, I think Tetsumi has an entire collection of Suna puppetry things. Probably because of her uncle."

Emiko almost pitied the other girl, who was clearly some sort of relative to herself. Jomei was a little talkative when she first met people (and every other interaction after that). But the other girl nodded.

"That's cool. My mother uses weapons a lot, so she gave me a bunch for my birthday." The girl strode over to the bush and pulled it open cautiously. "By the way, I'm Chisaki. Hyūga Chisaki." she said from within the bush. "Oh. Hi, Chisaki!" Jomei said. "Hello." Emiko said, a beat late.

"I'm Uzumaki Emiko." Emiko finally said. Jomei decided to follow suit. "And I'm Uchiha Jomei." The usage of their names prompted Chisaki's head to pop out of the bush, and then her arms, toy shuriken in hand. "Oh, I know your parents. They're at the party with my dad."

It took a moment for Emiko to process. "So, you're my cousin?" Chisaki nodded. "I thought I knew you." Emiko said, tilting her head a little. Jomei shrugged. "Haven't met any of your cousins, to be honest. I even didn't know Neji-jisan's daughter was at the party."

"Well, now you do." Chisaki said. Jomei grinned at her. "Want to be friends?"

(reminder insert line)

Nara Tetsumi was a genius. Not as much of a genius as her father, of course (she doubted anybody could match him) but still up there. They'd had her take the test a few weeks ago – it had been simple really. Puzzles and games of shogi had never been able to foil her, especially not against somebody who was obviously distracted.

Really. The psychologist had been looking at his grading sheet the entire time. Picture cards of common items and descriptions of their uses were simple enough. A test of her speed and dexterity with a pencil? Not a problem. So Tetsumi felt more than a little disappointed after the test.

All this she pondered while lying on a picnic blanket outside on a grassy hill, looking up at the clouds. It was one of her father's favorite pastimes, but unlike him, she wasn't actually looking at them. She was talking to her best friend, Yamanaka Nina.

"So, Inojin said what?" Their younger brothers were a source of consternation for them both, but more so for Tetsumi, because Shikadai was a lazy lump, like their father. But worse – her father without the accomplishments. Tetsumi took more after her mother, both in looks and temperament. Her hair was blonde, her eyes were grey-green, and she was anything but lazy.

Nina sighed. "Inojin's only three! And he already figured out that he's part of Ino-Shika-Cho and I'm not." Tetsumi shrugged but made a sound of commiseration all the same. After all, Shikadai was smart too, and he'd figured that out ages ago. It wasn't like it was a big secret.

"It's alright." Tetsumi soothed. "We're just not part of Ino-Shika-Cho because Choji-jichan didn't have Chocho until we were three." Nina still harrumphed. "Besides," Tetsumi continued. "We're still the heiresses."

Nina threw her hands above her head. "How come Emiko and Jomei don't go through all this? Lucky them." Tetsumi arched an eyebrow, a movement learned from her mother. "Well, they do have two younger siblings." Poor Jomei. Tetsumi had heard that the Uchiha family was a very traditional one – perhaps with the birth of a baby brother, she wouldn't be heiress anymore.

Tetsumi couldn't imagine that. Being heiress had a strange way of both defining and not defining Jomei. Emiko, on the other hand…

Well, Emiko was only six. They were all only six. Nobody knew whether any of them would be good clan leaders yet.

"Besides, if we're talking lucky, you should mention Herumi." Nina groaned. "Kami-sama, Herumi." Herumi was one of their best friends and the only member of their group of six that didn't come from the Konoha 11's families. "She's not even heiress! So lucky."

Terumi made a noise of agreement. "Jealous?"

Nina shrugged. "Look, let's actually do some cloud gazing." Her finger pointed straight up at a passing cloud formation. "I think that's a turtle."

"What?! That looks more like a pile of poop than it does a turtle!"

(reminder insert line)

A/N: I hope you all liked the first chapter! Please review, flames will be used for my fireplace. Thank you!

-amazonqueen03


	3. Chapter 2

**Seven Years Old**

(reminder insert line)

There was a well-known fact among the Konoha 11, their children, and beyond. It was that the Uchiha-Uzumaki friendship lived on in their children. The rivalry was expressed by Sarada and Bolt – the friendship by Jomei and Emiko. They were inseparable, and with the addition of Chisaki, they were teasingly named the Dojutsu Three.

It was accurate: the three combined had the Byakugan and the Sharingan. Not only that, but ANBU level fathers and jonin mothers. If any lineage screamed potential, it was theirs. Today, the three were meeting up at the Academy a half hour early.

It was mid-March in Konoha, and Jomei walked to the academy in her red Uchiha shirt and black pants. Seeing Emiko and Chisaki up ahead, she ran and screeched to a stop in front of the two cousins. In truth, it was a little more complicated than that – the two were, in fact, second cousins – but she didn't know anything about those intricacies, not like her father would.

In fact, she had no cousins at all, because she was Uchiha Sasuke's daughter. With the whole Uchiha massacre thing, a cousin was hard to come by. "Hi!" This one word prompted an outbreak of giggles, although none of them quite knew why.

Sitting on the swings together, they chatted for a bit. Nattering on about training and assignments and their futures as ninja, the half hour was almost over when their parents were brought up. "How's Neji-jisan?" Jomei inquired as she pushed a little. This was pure habit – she'd heard from Emiko already that Neji-jisan wasn't home for the last few days.

"He's on a mission." Chisaki's tone was a bit curt, as she'd expected. ANBU Captain Neji went on life-threatening missions as part of his job. Every time he did, Chisaki was left hanging. "And Sasuke-jisan?" An eye for an eye, Jomei would reflect when she was older, but the seven-year-old didn't know that phrase yet, and just took the question in good humor.

"Daddy's leaving on Saturday." With the family shinobi, they got a few days of notice. Sensitive as she still was, though, anybody that knew her well could tell she was upset. Turning to Emiko, she asked again. "What about Naruto-jichan?"

There was only one person she called jichan, and that was Emiko's father. Their fathers were so close they were almost blood brothers, and so it was only natural that their children picked up on it. "Busy, like always." Although still young, the bitter note in her voice rang clear through the empty playground.

With the ghosts of children's laughter hanging around them like a cloak, it seemed only more sad. There was a joke that although alone they were seven, together they were 21. It was supposed to refer to their teamwork, but their occasional melancholy too.

Intent on redirecting their conversation, Jomei jumped suddenly back to the topic of school and shinobi life. "Sarada's left-handed." She began. Chisaki sent her a withering look. "We know." Jomei raised a hand to indicate a need for silence.

"Let me finish. How's she going to hold a kunai?" This prompted pause from both of her friends. They knew very well that kunai were held in the right hand. But since none of them were left-handed or had left-handed parents (well, Jomei did, but his left arm was gone now, so that was a moot point), they didn't know.

Even Chisaki, whose mother was practically ambidextrous, didn't know. Before any of them could say anymore, the playground was filled with children. Tetsumi and Nina came over, and Jomei sprang up from her seat, swing following her for a moment before settling. She was by far the closest to these two members of her five friends. They were missing their sixth – Herumi. Jomei was closest to these two for a few reasons.

This was generally chalked up to who Nina's mother was – Yamanaka Ino was best friends with Uchiha Sakura, after all. Jomei and Nina hadn't hit it off quite as well as that, but they were still good friends with a strong camaraderie.

As for Tetsumi, their personalities were scarily similar. Although Tetsumi was a bit more violent and had the genius IQ of her father, the two shared a love for books, a need to train, and an innate talent to make biting, incisive remarks or toss off a sarcastic comment. This made the two connect, but it spawned arguments, as well. Stubbornness was another of their shared trait as well, prompting jokes about the two being twins.

It didn't help that Jomei was older than Tetsumi by a day – which she grumbled about, as being born late had given them the twin moniker anyway. "Late as usual then, Tetsumi?" Jomei quipped as the bell rang, signaling the start of school. She didn't dart away in time to evade Tetsumi's punch, but she did shoot a grin over her shoulder before dashing to the line of students outside of the school.

Moments later, the rest of the five arrived. As they entered the school, tetsumi and Jomei elbowed each other again as their friends rolled their eyes. "Like you and Chisaki are any more serious." Jomei hissed under her breath to Emiko. Just as Emiko was about to reply, Shino-sensei focused his disconcerting gaze on them, and the group quieted down.

Not that it helped, because when Herumi burst into class, fifteen minutes late and hair in disarray, the girls fell into laughter anyways.

(reminder insert line)

Nina was so excited it might be a little worrying. It was the second half of the day when the young aspiring ninja were allowed to do the physical stuff. Everything with kunai and senbon and what-not happened now. So when they headed to the target range for a little kunai fun, Nina was excited, but it was nothing compared to Jomei.

Her friend was bouncing as she walked, looking excited and happy to be using her favorite weapon. It was a little reminiscent of Chisaki's mother, who was a weapons specialist, in her Academy days. Lining up with a handful of kunai, Nina focused on her bull's eye.

Her kunai had settled into her hand fairly easily, but glancing out of the corner of her eye, she could tell that Jomei looked more at home with the kunai than Nina could ever be in a year. Extensive training must have honed her skill.

While waiting for the go-ahead, one of the boys began talking to Jomei, and Nina stifled a laugh at her friend's expense, who was looking patently bored. Edamura Jouta, their resident taijutsu specialist, was merely average in kunai. But he more than made up for it in taijutsu, where along with Chinen Atsuya he outshone them all. Even with all the power of genetics and training on her side, she couldn't beat his taijutsu. Which, as they had pointed out, was only fair. After all, she had multiple secret jutsus. As Shino-sensei walked down the line to check the students. Nina waited for him to pause at the one person he always did.

"Michito." Michito was a bit like Naruto-jichan. With his sunset orange hair and lack of skill in, quite frankly, almost everything, he was an easy scapegoat for the senseis. But in a class full of judging eyes, Michito managed to win favor – and keep it. "Look around you. Hold your kunai properly." Even without being able to see him, she knew he was smirking.

Michito was a compulsive smirker. Just as she knew he would smirk, Jomei also anticipated him leaning over to Ryū Panotsuki, his partner in crime. Or one of them, anyways. In a stage whisper that carried through the field, Michito spoke. "Show me how."

Nina watched Jomei purse her lips and turn back to her target. Nina followed suit shortly after, and Shino-sensei passed by the rest of the class without incident. Now, the actual throwing began, and Nina casually threw volley after volley of kunai, although not all of them hit the target. It was fine with her. She was used to the sound of kunai on target contact, and the clatter of kunai missing the target altogether.

This was her normal. Suddenly, a playful shriek rang out in the air as a young girl ran forward to retrieve her kunai, and Nina sighed a little. Playful, beamish Herumi didn't think before she did, and was the most irresponsible of the six friends. She was the only one of the six not to be a child of the Konoha 11, which made her status with them seem more shocking.

Nina didn't understand elitism yet, but later she would reflect that perhaps the world of the 11 wasn't very welcoming if you weren't one of them. But Herumi's friendship with them made a twisted kind of sense. Herumi was Tetsumi's first friend. Both of Herumi's parents were elite jonin, and Tetsumi's mother had taken a liking to them. This sealed Herumi's fate – to be an object of wonder for all not part of the Academy's elite.

They themselves didn't think so – yet – but with their celebrity parents, it wasn't hard for the idea of an elite group to be formed. Perhaps it was their training. The inherited jutsus. Or just their teamwork. A combination of all three? Probably. Whatever it was, the six girls were idols, as were their four male counterparts – Jouta, Atsuya, Ryū, and Michito – who were idolized for various things.

Michito's sense of humor and crowd manipulation, Ryū's prankster tendencies and carelessly good looks, Atsuya's knowledge of anything gross and his taijutsu, and Jouta's easygoing personality and taijutsu combined to make a male dream team. This held true for the girls as well, with their various inherited skills or personality traits.

Nina darted forwards and bent down to help Herumi with the kunai. There was an art to it – you bent down low enough so that even the most badly aimed kunai couldn't hit, but stayed high enough not to look ridiculous.

"Herumi, you were late today!" Nina whispered as they collected. Just as Jomei and Chisaki got snappy when confronted with how much their parents left them, Herumi clammed up. Nina knew the cause of her friend's tardiness the moment she saw her expression. It was a mix of strickenness, bitterness, and longing, and it made Nina feel like she was invading just by looking at it. When Herumi spoke again, most of her cheerfulness had faded.

"My parents are on a mission again." That was all it took. A nod of understanding, a look of empathy. "Jomei's dad's leaving on Saturday." Nina offered. Often, they would exchange stories like this, trying to show that they understood what the others were going through. Herumi always went over to Tetsumi's place when she was desperate enough to go for help.

Herumi was a shinobi child. Humility didn't exactly come easy, and when it did come at all, it wasn't accepted happily. If anyone knew that it was Nara Tetsumi, which was why Herumi went to her. Besides, the Nara compound was far more welcoming than, say, the Uchiha ghost district.

Herumi had already started to develop her habit of night time walks – or anytime walks – through Konoha. There was nobody who could tell her to do otherwise when her parents were gone. Well, except for Naruto-jisan, and he was just as bad at her age, so he really couldn't talk.

The kunai were all gathered by now, so Nina gave them to Herumi and walked back to her target. If anyone noticed her kunai throwing lacked a little luster, that was okay. After all, Jomei's vicious throwing more than made up for it.

If anyone commented on it, then neither of them heard, because they were both lost in thought.

(reminder insert line)

Hyūga Chisaki was not in the habit of thinking, per se. For one, she was only seven. The other reason? Well, she was an action based person. She had never been the kind of girl to go around asking why, or what if. She took things as they were, not unlike her mother, Tenten, and her father Neji. They were both pragmatic people.

Not that she knew what pragmatic meant, but she thought it meant practical.

So she struggled an inordinate amount every day after school when her hired tutor tried to teach her the history of the clan. Actually, she wasn't even sure if he was hired. He had the Byakugan – he was likely some unfortunate cousin roped into helping out with the education of the clan's heiress.

Why couldn't they work on calligraphy? That was something Chisaki was good at. Her hands were steady (had to be, when she spent so much time with weapons) and she had the patience for it as well. She'd been told her fingers had a good sense of pressure, perfect for artistic pursuits.

Nope. Clan history it was for her. Her tutor snapped his fingers in front of her, startling her out of her complaints. "Listen. So, when Konoha was founded..."

Chisaki turned a little and discreetly looked out the window. As soon as she did, her eyes bugged out, and she hastily turned back to her tutor, looking very interested. What was Herumi doing out there, waving her hands at the window?

Come to think of it, how had Herumi even made it in here? These were pressing questions, but Herumi wasn't going to let up, and it was obvious what the girl wanted. Chisaki shifted her chair carefully so that her tutor couldn't see Herumi, now jumping frantically up and down. "Um, sensei," Chisaki said carefully, mind whirring desperately. Why, oh why, had she befriended this group of girls? Or just Herumi. Jomei was likely at home training her heart out, or taking care of her siblings. Emiko had her hands full with Bolt. Tetsumi was likely getting her own extra education in. Same for Nina. Only Herumi had no clan, and, therefore, no real excuse for extra tutoring at home.

Lucky duck. The clan children were described as never having to lift anything heavier than chopsticks, but she begged to differ. They were shinobi clan children. Rich civilian children might not lift anything heavier than chopsticks, but she certainly did.

"Sensei, can I...go to the bathroom?" Her tutor seemed just as relieved as she was. "Yes, go ahead." Chisaki left normally, and as soon as the door closed behind her, ran outside to the gardens, where Herumi had been.

"Herumi? What are you doing out here?" Herumi grinned cheekily at her. "Looking for someone to play with!" Chisaki sighed.

Why had she actually agreed to Jomei's proposition of friendship last year?

(reminder insert line)

"I'm not going to be a medic-nin!"

Silence reigned in the classroom as Jomei slowly sank back into her seat. "Well," she said in a quieter voice, "I'm not." Shino-sensei seemed exasperated, although really, who could tell? It wasn't like they could see his face. Anyways, his exasperation would have been understandable.

They had had various ninja come in that specialized in different things, and Jomei had sat through the presentations on tracking and interrogations well enough. But as soon as the medic-nin came in (and did she vaguely recognize this kunoichi?) everything had gone downhill.

The entire presentation had been full of allusions to Jomei becoming a medic-nin, and even a seven-year-old such as herself could understand what the kunoichi was getting at. Eventually, she'd gotten so fed up that she had stood up, slammed her hand on the desk, and declared that she would not, under any circumstances, become a medic-nin.

Why not? They all seemed to ask. Jomei had some of the best chakra control in the class. Her mother was the best medic-nin in the village, and perhaps the world. She had steady enough hands. Jomei had all the potential to be a medic-nin and none of the aspiration to be one.

She didn't regret it. These hands were made for destruction, not healing, and even at age seven, she had that all figured out.

"Thank you, for that...enlightening declaration," Shino-sensei said in a bland tone. "Medic-san, would you please continue?" Jomei sat up a little straighter, cheeks burning with embarrassment, but unwilling to let this drag her down.

They'd forget about it. Eventually.

A/N: (1) never having to lift anything heavier than chopsticks: a Japanese expression for someone who has never had to work hard, an easy life.

What do you think? When are they cuter, age seven or age six? Next chapter, they'll be eight. Please review, flames will be used for my fireplace.

-amazonqueen03


	4. Chapter 3

**Eight Years Old**

* * *

Jomei had just been let out of school when she realized Emiko was still packing up. "Emiko, hurry up!" Normally Emiko dressed fast and they waited for Chisaki, but evidently not today. The 8-year old hadn't yet realized that something that usually hung on her neck was missing. At least, not until Emiko called her over, which was by then unneeded.

The rest of their group of six, their male counterparts, and various classmates were crowded around something. Jomei shoved through and realized immediately what it was. Fast as lightning, she picked up the necklace. It was simple, and she knew the others had gotten a good look at it already.

The black sphere on a chain. What made it so interesting was that it was a black crystal, and it caught the light and spun rainbows in a way that entranced young children. Every Uchiha had one. Their chakra and their immediate family's were infused into the crystal. If Jomei flicked the crystal and set it spinning, you could see it. Her father's thunderstorm black chakra (only she had taken the time to realize that it was black-blue-grey) her mother's soft green.

Jomei's own chakra, a rich indigo. Even Sarada, with her navy chakra, and little Ichiro's emerald. It had been a pain to make him infuse the crystal, and in his chakra, Jomei felt it was just a hint darker moral-wise than, say, her mother.

Jomei enjoyed observing her father's chakra the most, though.

(Drawing it out and watching black crystal spin hypnotically while chakra flashed and shades flickered black-blue-grey, too many to count, infinite levels of complexity.)

Her father was very much a private person, so any hints about his personality were all from his chakra or her memories of him from when she was very small. He didn't discuss his past with her much either, so talking about his personality was off-limits.

"That's not yours, so you should just give it to sensei." Tetsumi admonished. Jomei put her necklace back on and tucked it under her shirt, where it settled, crystal on skin. She was in a bad mood now, so she frowned at Tetsumi.

"It is mine, actually." Her tone was clipped and curt, much like the way she was when talking about her parents. Even so, Herumi took up Tetsumi's mantle (and Jomei knew that it was she who had taught her friends to be such gossips, but did they have to be such gossips?) and continued questioning.

"Really? When'd you get it? You're not a jewelry person." Herumi would know, especially as she was one. "Yes, it's mine. I got it a few months after I was born? Ask my parents." That usually got them to be quiet. High-class traditions like Uchiha chakra crystal or Hyūga senbon sparring scared them.

Well, that, and nobody was stupid enough to ask Uchiha Sasuke to clarify something about his family. Seeing her answers as encouragement, though, a litany of questions flew. "What does it do? Does it have special powers? Is it an Uchiha thing?" The last question was the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back.

"That's it," Jomei said decisively. "I'm leaving. Bye." Blatant dismissal. Dragging Chisaki and Emiko with her, they left the Academy behind them. After a few minutes of ranting, she was content to talk about other things. At the crossroads, she waved goodbye to her friends – the Hyūga compound was in the other direction, and Emiko had long since departed, as the Hokage Residence was ridiculously close to the Academy.

This stretch of the journey was usually quiet, but not lonely. As extroverted as she could be, she liked her down time, which walking alone along the path gave her. Jomei reached the end of the path, with the Uchiha district gates rising up ahead.

Glowing with majesty, it was also the entrance to the most decimated clan in Konoha's property, as well as the only possessors of the feared Sharingan. Currently, only her father had an active one, but Jomei was sure that by the time she was a chunin she'd have Sharingan.

As she neared the gate, she saw her father standing under it, patented brooding look perfectly in place. He was obviously waiting for her, so Jomei hurried towards him. "Hello," she said, and stood there, waiting expectantly. If her father was actually taking the time to wait for her, then he wanted to do something or tell her something important.

"I want you to try a jutsu." This prompted an ill-concealed flare of interest in her eyes. Her friends had all started learning basic jutsus from their parents. Jomei had too, but only from her mother. ANBU Captain Sasuke was usually almost too busy for his wife, let alone his eldest daughter.

If he had the time to teach it, it must be a good jutsu. Obviously not the deadly Chidori, but something else? She didn't even dare to consider the rite of passage jutsu. But as they began to walk towards the docks instead of the forest, her hopes soared. The docks were reserved for either Fire or Water jutsu only – the forest was their de facto training ground. More often than not, her father was the only one found training here.

Her mother didn't train her Water jutsu much these days. Jomei couldn't understand why. Standing on the docks, Jomei shrugged off her backpack and grinned up at her father, too excited to school her features into a mask of indifference.

Her father began explaining. "These are the hand signs for the jutsu." A pause. "You know your hand signs?" Jomei raised an eyebrow and sent a trademark withering look. He took this as agreement and continued. "Tiger, Ram, Monkey, Boar, Horse, Tiger." her father recited.

His fingers flew, pressing lightly, making each hand signs and pausing for longer than he needed to so that she could see before continuing. It was the most practiced movement for an Uchiha, to the point where it was just second nature.

Jomei wasn't truly watching the hand signs, for she had figured out where this was going. The rite of passage jutsu! Jomei had snuck into her father's study multiple times before and had memorized the hand signs for it ages ago.

"Or Snake," she pointed out. If her father had been a lesser man, he might have let a flicker of surprise cross his face. But he wasn't a lesser man, and he didn't even need a recovery time. "Yes, Snake can replace Tiger at the start," he said dismissively. Then he looked expectantly at her.

Jomei duly performed the hand signs, fingers flying with the determined purpose that set her apart from a civilian. It was second nature for her too, by virtue of practice at night in her bedroom. That practice had never actually involved her chakra, though, (she wasn't stupid – what if she burned down the house?) and so she felt more than a little uncertain.

"Again with Snake." Again her fingers pressed and clasped together, forming a series of signs for a jutsu most genin couldn't perform. Her father then turned so he was facing the water. "While forming the signs, gather chakra to your chest, then blow." her father demonstrated, and with the most set face Jomei had had since saying she wouldn't become a medic-nin, Jomei stepped to the edge of the docks.

Hands moving easily, she focused on her chakra, forcing it to her chest and lungs. Jomei reached the end of the sequence, and without a second thought, she blew. Her first impression was a horrible dryness in her throat, and a warmth in her chest and the second thing she noticed was that a dribble of flame had made it out.

Lemon sour disappointment flared in her body. Her father didn't seem to know how to teach, she didn't seem to know how to learn, and it hurt. But she refused to admit that she had hoped for approval on her first try, so she went through the motions again.

How did you turn chakra into fire? Jomei didn't know, but she had to try. She tried again, fingers moving through the motions, focusing on turning her chakra from passive to active, waiting to moving, from energy to fire.

This time, it felt like she was a cat and there was a hairball she needed to cough out. When it did come out, a small fireball hung for a momentary second over the lake and then extinguished itself. Her eyes instantly turned to her father.

His only reaction was a nod of approval before he disappeared, leaving Jomei on the docks with the wind whipping at her hair and a look of confusion on her face. Sighing, she turned back to the lake, and her fingers clasped together.

Whatever. If she practiced harder, she'd get his approval

A month later, she'd mastered the jutsu, and yet the only thing she got from him was a nod.

* * *

Uzumaki Emiko was not of the opinion that she had a terrible life.

Quite the opposite, actually. She found herself to be a lucky person. She had a great family, had a dojutsu, had two younger siblings and two high-ranking parents. If that meant that her father was too busy for any of his children most of the time, that was alright. It wasn't like Emiko had the right to complain.

At her age, her father had been ostracized, living on the streets, unloved by anybody. At her age, Jomei's father, Sasuke-jisan, had lost his entire family to a massacre and the machinations of the formerly corrupt Konoha.

At her age, her uncle Neji had already lost his father and had been branded with the curse seal on his forehead. Emiko did not complain and resented any statements that implied she did. But sometimes, when she was alone in her (large, pale blue, luxurious) bedroom, she felt like there was more. There must be more to life than this, she would think as she pored over her Academy reading.

There must be more than silent rooms and a sleepless father, she thought when she heard her parents whisper together in the hall late at night (or was it early in the morning? Emiko couldn't tell, not anymore.)

There must be more than unnaturally pale eyes examined in rooms bleached white, she thought when she went to her eye exam every month at the hospital.

There must be more than hands glowing with chakra and red dots on a dummy, she thought when she trained outside by herself after school, because nobody was home to train with her.

Uzumaki Emiko had her hardships, and sometimes she felt like giving a voice to them, telling others about them. About saying them to someone other than the silent, unmoving air of her bedroom late at night, testing the syllables and consonants on her tongue.

About whispering them to Jomei or Chisaki one day at recess or on their way home. But Uzumaki Emiko also did not dream about stupid things, and that was a stupid thing. Struggles were private, and although every child in Konoha knew the story of their Hokage Naruto and his perseverance and struggles, Emiko had not truly learned from her father.

In fact, she'd learned more from her grandfather, who kept secrets and was more of a strict man. Emiko kept her secrets to herself. To voice them would be nice – but she didn't.

After all, those were complaints, and Uzumaki Emiko did not complain.

* * *

At age eight, Nara Tetsumi believed that she had discovered the ultimate secret of social interaction: everything was just a form of manipulation.

How had she come to this conclusion? Well, she was currently standing all alone at the edge of a party, watching her mother smile and laugh even though that wasn't her style, and seeing her father slump in that particular Nara way with some important looking dignitaries.

Why was her mother doing that? To manipulate the people she was talking to into believing she was a nice, likable person. Why was her father listening to those dignitaries? Was it because he respected them? Tetsumi didn't believe that.

He was listening to them so he could manipulate them into doing what he wanted when it came time to do so. She might be eight, but she wasn't stupid. Tetsumi was observant enough to see the little gestures and affectations people had when they spoke, and smart enough to put the pieces together.

Just as she was about to pretend she was some wallflower girl at a high society party nursing a glass of something vaguely alcoholic and bubbly, Jomei popped out of nowhere to slink along the wall to Tetsumi, interrupting her midway through leaning her head against the wall.

Well. It seemed that she had some entertainment, and Tetsumi turned to face Jomei. "What are you doing here?" Not that she didn't want to see Jomei here, of course. But this was a party for diplomats and Very Important People, ones that interacted with foreign dignitaries.

Actually, she was surprised that she hadn't seen Emiko here. It would've made more sense than seeing Jomei. Jomei flipped her hair over her shoulder dramatically, which would probably have had a bigger effect if her hair hadn't been in her customary ponytail.

"This is a party for the diplomats from Kiri because they need medics, silly." Jomei teased. "My mom's the best medic. She brought me with her." Tetsumi might have flushed if she was more sensitive and more expressive. She didn't like Jomei knowing something that she didn't. Tetsumi was the genius, and while Jomei was smart (who wouldn't be, with those parents?) she wasn't Tetsumi.

But Jomei eavesdropped, and Tetsumi didn't, and Jomei actually cared about this sort of thing, and Tetsumi didn't. So instead, Tetsumi nodded like she knew that all along. "Anyways. Have you seen the chocolate?"

Jomei's eyes widened. "Chocolate?" Tetsumi smirked at her friend's enthusiasm and short attention span. Jomei's love for chocolate made her attention span so small that it rivaled Herumi's, and funnily enough, Tetsumi's best friends were those people who were different from her. Well, there was the clan heiress factor, but they were all different.

Jomei was chatty, effusive, dedicated. Emiko was shy, selfless, quiet. Nina was dramatic, observant, understanding. Tetsumi could go on and on about all of her friends and describe them, but never could she describe herself. It was her blind spot, and she was introspective enough to know that, but not much else.

"Yes, at the buffet table. But you'll have to get through a sea of," and here she paused and wrinkled her nose disdainfully, "adults." Jomei laughed and headed off anyways. Tetsumi leaned back against the wall and pouted.

Suddenly, she felt a hand grab her wrist. Jomei had come back, apparently exasperated with her friend's bullheadedness. "Come on, there's chocolate!" Jomei said brightly. Tetsumi's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and she finally just laughed.

"Uchiha Jomei, you are the strangest girl I've ever met." she said, and they both headed off through the sea of adults.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading! This chapter was a little ugh, but I welcome reviews and constructive criticism. Flames will fuel my fireplace.

-amazonqueen03


	5. Chapter 4

**Nine Years Old**

* * *

"Have you ever wondered what it would be like to be a civilian?" This arresting question was asked by Jomei one day outside while the girls were tossing a ball around. Almost immediately after, Herumi threw it at her, and Jomei stumbled as she caught it. Nina stifled a laugh behind her hand as she watched it.

"What do you mean?" Tetsumi asked, exasperated expression already perfectly fixed on her face. Nina knew better than anyone that Tetsumi hated wishy-washy people – and she hated it when dreamy, unrealistic remarks came from people she thought would know better. People like Jomei, for example. The two of them both had apathetic fathers, busy mothers, and younger siblings – Tetsumi and Jomei were kindred spirits.

Which was why this line of questioning was a waste of time in Tetsumi's eyes.

Sometimes, Nina thought that she could read people too well. "Exactly what it sounds like, Tetsumi. You're supposed to be smart!" A teasing remark landed with stunning accuracy from Chisaki. Tossing the ball lightly at Emiko, Jomei laughed.

"I have," Herumi answered. Something even Nina couldn't define crossed Herumi's face. They all knew what Herumi meant, of course. Out of all of them, Herumi was the most bitter about her parents' shinobi lifestyle. "Haven't we all?" Jomei tossed out, saving face for both Herumi and their way of life. Clan children as they were, shinobi were always part of their future.

Being shinobi, seeing shinobi, loving shinobi. It was a vicious cycle, one that had fostered the sense of detachment civilians used to feel when dealing with shinobi. Now, their Hokage was working to remedy that. Nothing was as bad as it was before, but every time Nina looked at Jomei, she could remember what her history books had said – that the Uchiha clan had once been mutinous, that the Konoha Council had passed the order for thirteen-year-old Uchiha Itachi to kill his entire family, save for his younger brother.

Every time Nina looked at Jomei, she remembered that the reason Jomei had no real extended family was because of the village she loved so much, and it was excruciatingly hard to reconcile. The Uchiha clan, once glorious, had been reduced to nothing but a small boy in a single night, and now, slowly, painfully, was building itself from the ground up once again.

Jomei carried her entire clan on her shoulders as heiress, and Nina felt for her friend. Jomei could never do anything too scandalous, make even the slightest show of dangerous defiance. As soon as she did, the village would chalk it up to her father, her parentage, deride the former traitor for even attempting to redeem himself.

They would say that being a traitor carried in the genes, and Nina knew that Jomei knew this all too well. So it made it that much more amazing that her friend managed to have an effervescent personality at all – that she hadn't turned into an ice cube like her emotionless father.

They would always be shinobi – even Herumi knew that. Her jonin parents couldn't have their only child become a civilian. It was laughable. Being a shinobi carried in the genes more than being a traitor did, which was why shinobi had things called clans. "I think about it sometimes." Emiko answered. Her lavender eyes focused on Jomei's with a knowing sort of look that only came from ages of friendliness and knowing each other inside and out. "But we're meant to be shinobi. Look how good we are at it!" Emiko finished.

Chisaki nodded in agreement, catching the ball in an instant and tossing it over her shoulder just as fast. "It's in our blood. If I wasn't a shinobi, though, I'd be a doctor, I think." Jomei's disdain for the skills of civilian doctors was well-known and easily explained, but even so, Nina winced for Chisaki. Considering who Jomei's mother and 'grandparents' were, a medic-nin's skills were always valued, even if she had no aspirations to be one herself.

Jomei snorted. "Why a doctor?" Her question was promptly ignored, but Jomei didn't seem overly offended by it. With so many girls in one group, there was bound to be statements and questions that were lost in the overarching conversation. Jomei had provoked this round of opinions, and Nina knew that she would listen to each and every one of them when they were offered.

"I'd want to be an actress," Nina said, dramatically posing. She didn't manage to hold her movie star pose for longer than half a minute before she began laughing. She knew that if she wanted to, she could succeed at it – she had an understanding of the human psyche better than the average genin kunoichi, and she knew it. Her mother had already begun to teach her her most important skill; sizing people up with a glance.

Mother had set her to people watching, and Nina took to it dutifully. Combine Yamanaka talent with her father's eye for detail and Nina had been told she'd be an above-average genin. Jomei had mentioned once that Nina would likely get sent on seduction missions, with that blonde hair and those cornflower blue eyes, and Nina swore her jaw had dropped.

Seduction! Her? As if. Jomei was insane.

"A dancer, maybe." Herumi commented, and Nina nodded. Herumi had that dancer's easy grace, as did Emiko. But Herumi worked at her dance, and she'd long since gone beyond kunoichi dance. Some days, Nina envied her. Most days, she lived with being the most invisible of the group.

Emiko's answer was quick, easy and obvious. "Doctor. It's like a civilian medic-nin, okay?" Emiko added in response to Jomei's raised eyebrow. Nina envied Jomei's eyebrows, sometimes. They were immeasurably expressive, and Jomei had a way of saying exactly what she wanted to – distaste, amusement, skepticism – with one eyebrow raise. Emiko's goal was to be a medic-nin though, and nobody could envy her that aspiration.

"What about you?" Emiko asked, and Nina watched as Jomei seemed to hesitate for a moment. Nina understood. Jomei was navigating a field fraught with complications – as heiress to a clan wrapped in tattered glory, she had a lot of responsibility. It was easy to wish that away in a normal clan, like Nina's. She couldn't imagine how Jomei felt. Family was so important to each of them, and the Uchiha Massacre had made Jomei the survivor of a near-extinct breed of shinobi; agile, fast, and skilled. Wouldn't it be a dishonor to leave all that and become a civilian?

Not that Nina was judging. This was Jomei's life, and when Nina looked at it, she just remembered to appreciate that her only problems were understanding others too well and attempting to help her father's social development. Well. Not only problems. Nina had more problems than that – learning the ways of the family, taking care of her little brother, helping in the flower shop, homework from the Academy – but they paled in comparison to her main two. They looked like nothing when compared to Jomei, who shouldered each of Nina's responsibilities and more, as Uchiha heiress. After all, Jomei had two younger siblings, as did Emiko, and nobody envied them that responsibility.

"A psychologist." Jomei finally answered. "I like finding out why people do things." Nina smiled and spoke. "Honestly, though, I'd probably be a florist." This earned a round of laughs. It was true enough – the Yamanaka flower shop was a very civilian job. Nina watched as something lit in Jomei's eyes (a spark of enthusiasm? A memory?) and her friend pointed at Nina.

"The Yamanakas would be a family of florists, therapists, and psychologists." Nina raised an eyebrow but inclined her head in agreement. Jomei turned to point at Emiko, and Nina decided to sit back and watch the show (metaphorically, of course). "Naruto-jichan would be a...a honest politician."

The very thought seemed to be hilarious, and she could hear a round of stifled laughs. "And Emiko's mom would be the former heiress of a big company." The Hyūgas were elite, civilian or not. "Chisaki's parents are in charge of the company. Tetsumi's mom could be...a really vicious bodyguard?" When Tetsumi shot her a glare, Jomei changed it hastily.

"I meant an ambassador." This was Tetsumi's mother's former job anyways, so it wasn't like Tetsumi could complain now without drawing ridicule. "Your dad could be a shogi player." A sharp glare from Tetsumi. "A professional complainer?" Another glare and Nina couldn't help wondering if Jomei's father had been giving out lessons because lately Tetsumi's glares seemed to be more vicious than usual.

"Fine. A diplomat." Which would, in effect, make Tetsumi a diplomatic child – literally. "Herumi's parents are bodyguards." It was an oversimplification of a ninja's job, Nina knew, but it wasn't wrong, either. Escorts were some of the most common missions from C-rank up, and any shinobi aspirant worth the name knew that much.

"My father's a policeman, my mother's a doctor." It was simple enough. The Uchiha had been the police force. However, Jomei's father had turned down the offer of Police Chief, and now the police force was mostly civilians with taijutsu and crowd control training, with the odd ninja doing community service or about to retire thrown in. Mostly civilians.

As it was, most ninja regarded the police force as a farce. Nina didn't blame them; she knew civilian children loved and feared the police officers, and yet she as a shinobi child didn't understand it. Fear the officers in blue? Everybody knew that the ones you should fear were those in black, hidden in the shadows.

"Civilians have it so easy," Herumi commented wistfully. A ripple of hums of agreement ran through the group. It was agreement, but they were all too lazy to say anything else and add to it. "Really, what problems do they have?" Jomei added, backing Herumi up.

Chisaki jumped in too, always ready to play devil's advocate – or just Jomei's opposite. Nina didn't understand it that well. Those three were best friends, and yet, sometimes they played this game, where they tried to be as contrary as possible just for the sake of being contrary.

"Civilians are people too, Jomei. They have their own problems," Chisaki reprimanded. Unconsciously, Jomei had taken a step towards Chisaki, arms crossed. Nina could feel the tension settling between them. When had this become more than just a game of Catch? She caught Emiko eyeing the two of them as well, but neither of them said anything.

Nina trusted them. Jomei knew the limits. The Uchiha heiress didn't usually cross the line or go too far, although she did test the waters once in a while. Right now, the fire in both their eyes was all too easy to see. It was Jomei's fault, in Nina's opinion. This topic was far too close to everyone's hearts for them to just play with it like usual.

"What problems can they have? Their lives are nothing like ours." As a shinobi, it was their job to protect those same civilians. Evidently, it didn't mean they had to like them. Their entire pre-Academy lives had revolved around each other and their families. Shinobi heritage meant a shinobi future.

"Do they having missing-nin parents? A mother who knows nothing about you? A father who barely talks to your sister?" Jomei's voice rose with each question, stepping closer to Chisaki with every sharp question mark. "Do they have a hundred family members with the same date on their gravestone? Tell me, has a civilian ever been told that their eyes are cursed, that they're unnatural? Have they been called a family of traitors?"

Jomei's voice broke. Her stance softened. Nina couldn't find words – found herself reduced to a passive spectator as she was confronted with her friend's blazing fire. "What does a civilian know about anything?" Jomei said. "Tell me."

Chisaki was watching Jomei with a sort of wary caution. Nina felt suddenly, sharply, that it was the kind of expression you had when you were facing off with a wolf – you knew they were volatile, but you were unsure just how badly they could hurt you; unsure how well you would do in combat.

"But that's exactly why we protect them." Tetsumi cut in. "Shinobi take on the dark side of things so civilians can stay ignorant." Tetsumi offered a sad smile. "If we can't have idyllic lives, at least, they can." Nina got the feeling that Tetsumi had recited this to herself plenty of times before. It was good that her best friend had spoken up – Nina wasn't sure anybody else could have related to Jomei as well as Tetsumi did.

Both had apathetic fathers, but for different reasons. Vicious mothers, although it was again for different reasons. If anyone could understand, it was Tetsumi. At the Academy, they were revered. Among civilians, it was a mix of awe and disdain. By now, they'd learned to keep to their own kind.

"Our parents might be famous, but civilians could have a situation like ours too." This drew out a derisive snort. Jomei had all the combined stubbornness of her parents (and who didn't know the story of the two at the bench when her father had left?), as expected. Nina knew that her friend could see reason, but this was an issue her friend wasn't going to shift on.

She could see it in their posture, in their hands, in their eyes – this argument could escalate to the point where jutsus would come into play. And then, suddenly, sharply, the bell rang. Nina relaxed her stance in relief. She caught Emiko stepping back as well; it seemed that while she was fixated on the argument, Emiko had been about to step in between them and break it up.

The six of them dashed towards the school doors. Nina could only thank Kami-sama that nothing worse had happened – who knew what would happen if Jomei had brought out her fireball jutsu to play?

* * *

Shino-sensei dismissed the class, and Jomei sprang straight up and left the school as quickly as possible. Their assigned homework today was just an essay on chakra masking and disguising as civilians – easy enough to do on her own, but Jomei wanted to ask her mother about it. Her mother got out of the hospital at two today, and it was three already.

Besides, the cats wanted to train today.

The mere thought of the cats sent a shiver down her spine (the cats, the cats, _her_ cats, and perhaps that was the most important part) and a smile to her face. Jomei had three ninja cats, as she was the Uchiha heiress. She'd just gotten them for her ninth birthday, and later, Sarada and Ichiro would get their cats when they turned nine.

Homura was respectful, very polite, the leader of her trio of cats. Koujo was the muscle, a little crass, but loyal. And Kiki was the ruthless one, who had the most unnatural habit of acting very sweet when she wanted to. It gave Jomei chills sometimes, but she loved them still. All three loved their mistress – all three served her interests. Her ninja cats had somehow gotten into the habit of calling her hime-sama though; this had been picked up from Homura.

Not that Jomei was complaining.

Today, she uncharacteristically didn't wait for Emiko or Chisaki, but instead 'dropped' a note in front of Ryū and left. The note said, 'you knew when and where'.

When Jomei reached her home, her mother was on the couch, sleeping. She paused for a moment, indecisive. She would put a blanket on top of her mother, but – last time she'd done that, she'd startled her mother awake, and while it was peacetime now, shinobi instincts never did go away. Waking her mother would defeat the point.

Jomei placed her schoolbag on the floor and suited up. Although she wasn't even a genin yet, she could put on her weapons pouches. It wasn't even the hardest part of being a shinobi, and what a shame it would be if she couldn't do this little thing by the time she was nine. When she was done, she snapped her fingers once, sharply, and headed outside.

Homura, Koujo, and Kiki bounded up to her, with Koujo being the only one to be openly enthusiastic. Jomei expected it. Homura nodded, and Kiki smirked. The sun rose in the east and set in the west; the world moved on.

Jomei smiled and walked to the forest. Her family owned the entire Uchiha district, as well as the surrounding area. So the forest was all theirs, meaning Jomei had a vast array of options for training (not really, though – it was more of a 'this meadow or this one' decision than anything).

Arriving at a clearing, she saw Ryū seated at the center. Technically, this was trespassing, and she could have his head for this. Metaphorically, anyway. But she had expected for him to be here – trained with him here all the time, and so she cared little about anything as petty as 'trespassing.' Jomei waved off her retainer of cats and crossed to where Ryū was.

"What do you think of our assignment?" she asked. Shino-sensei had only just started the disguise and concealment unit. Ryū laughed easily but made no attempt to control a hint of bitterness.

(And how sad it was, that they were nine and knew what _bitter_ was already-)

"Sounds a bit silly, but you wouldn't care. It's all easy for you."

(-but in the end, they were shinobi, and _bitter_ was commonplace. Was that why his words left a bitter taste in her mouth?)

Jomei saw where this was heading, but like Ryū, she made no attempt to stop it. If he wanted to do this, he could go ahead. He'd started it, so he'd better finish it. Jomei set her face and responded almost threateningly.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ryū had known her for too long to be truly intimidated by this kind of posturing, but Jomei had those Uchiha genes, and she knew she still looked scary. Patented Uchiha glare – check. Arms crossed – check. A smirk curling at the edges of her lips – absolutely. Ryū was too far in to do damage control now, and they both knew it.

"You're an Uchiha! You'll never have to work hard once you get Sharingan, and your chakra control is top of the class." This barb, though expected, hit Jomei hard, and her mouth fell open in astonishment. Not once had Ryū gone as far as referencing her family's kekkei genkai in one of these conversations. Kekkei genkai were a very sore point of discussion in their class, especially with the Dojutsu Three hanging around.

Two Byakugan and a dormant Sharingan were more than impressive – it was downright deadly, even at age 9. Jomei had only once before tried to explain this to Ryū, but she was going to try again. "I told you, kekkei genkai are ninja tools. It's like clan jutsu." The thing with clan jutsu was that theoretically, they could be taught to anyone.

Kekkei genkai were genetic, and people were scared of that. "Kekkei genkai aren't the major factor in anything." Her last statement rang hollow, reeked of privilege lying to the common even though she wasn't, because privilege was decadence and luxury, not ghosts and silent fathers. Jomei knew what privilege was because it was everything she wasn't.

Almost, anyway.

She was lying to him, and she didn't even do him the honor of making it a good, foolproof lie – her lie was riddled with holes and founded on desperation and defensiveness. The truth was, in post-war Konoha, kekkei genkai did count. With people like Neji and Hinata Hyūga in power, it would be strange if they didn't.

"Besides, I don't even have the Sharingan." This was her trump card, her piéce de resistance. Jomei had yet to gain her Sharingan, as there was a severe lack of traumatizing situations going around Konoha these days. Ryū huffed in a decidedly effeminate way, but Jomei said nothing about it. "It makes things easy. It will give you superpowers. Every time you fight a kekkei genkai wielder, they win."

Jomei's mind flashed to Emiko and Chisaki almost immediately, all glowing Hyūga eyes and blue chakra-coated hands as they fought in the courtyard, and in the end, just laughing together, because they were young and didn't care. While Jomei was an Uchiha and her taijutsu wasn't too shabby, even little Emiko's strikes hurt more than hers (and Emiko was only little in size, not age, although she was that too). Rallying herself to counter him, she said, "Tetsumi can beat Emiko in a heartbeat and you know it."

Granted, that could likely be chalked up to Tetsumi's violent tendencies, but the statement still stood. Ryū pursed his lips. "She's a genius and the Kazekage's niece." Jomei rolled her eyes. Every time they talked about this (though they'd only talked about this once) Ryū was convinced everybody was better than him. Better connected, better heritage, better skills.

Ryū was a pessimist, but he called himself a realist. Jomei didn't know it yet, but in the years to come, she'd encounter a lot of this kind of shinobi.

"You beat Chisaki all the time in taijutsu," Jomei continued. This time, Ryū rolled his eyes. "We both know Chisaki doesn't use Byakugan at school." True enough. Emiko and Chisaki sparred all the time with their Gentle Fist styles, but there was an unspoken agreement not to use the eyes at school. It would be an unfair advantage, and if Jomei was honest with them, Emiko was better at it. There was strength in her strikes, and her aim was precise. Chisaki was alright, but not nearly as good – her accuracy with projectile weapons had not transferred to her own hands.

"Kekkei genkai aren't everything, Ryū," Jomei said and stood. "I should go back." They hadn't gotten any training in today. Instead, it had deteriorated into a pointless argument about something neither of them could change. Being a ninja was in her blood. The Sharingan ran through her veins, red and black and spinning and deadly.

(Did that make her deadly?)

Ryū stood as well. He always walked her back, even though she had three ninja cats by her side. It was a habit of theirs for them to pretend that she needed protection on her own property. They all knew that she could handle most civilians, and what ninja would dare risk the wrath of the Uchiha family just for a petty attack on their heiress?

As they exited the forest, Ryū commented on the Uchiha family house. "You live in a mansion." Jomei sighed – she wasn't in the mood for this. He could talk about how rich her family was all he wanted, but he had never been an Uchiha. There were responsibilities that came with titles, especially one like hers. Heiresses to clans had far more to conquer than heires. Heiresses had to overcome stigma about kunoichi, and complaints about their skills. Heiresses in clans received far more challenges and simpering glances and subtle sneers.

"It's just a clan head's house," she protested halfheartedly. "You've seen it before." Ryū shrugged. "It's...a really nice house." One day, that house would likely be hers. Unless, of course, she let Sarada have it instead. Jomei wanted to live outside of a district filled with ghosts. Too many memories of generations past hung here – a spiderweb of those that had come before her that she pushed her way through every day.

Pausing on the last step, she opened her mouth to comment on their argument. Thinking better of it, she shut her mouth and entered the house. Sarada, six years old, ran up and said, "Daddy's here!" Discarding thoughts of kekkei genkai and dojutsu at the door, Jomei gladly followed her little sister to see her father.

* * *

Emiko's day started off normally. Her parents were both out (as usual, and she scolded herself for expecting any different) but her mother had left lunches for them. The nine-year-old ate breakfast with an unusually subdued Boruto and then started on the route to the Academy with her brother.

(Not much of a route when it was literally a five-minute walk away, but still.)

When they reached the Academy, the others had arrived – and by the others, she meant the rest of the Dojutsu Three. Boruto promptly paired up with Sarada, bickering and shoving like six-year-olds do. By contrast, the three girls were chatting and laughing and squealing like usual. Jomei seemed a bit off, that spring morning, but when she inquired, Jomei just mentioned having seen Herumi from her bedroom window.

Emiko hadn't thought anything of it – Herumi's parents were on a mission, and everybody knew Herumi liked nightly walks. It wasn't like her friend would head towards the forest when bandits had set up there. Emiko had heard from a little unscrupulous eavesdropping at night that her father had dispatched three squads of chunin to get rid of the missing-nin bandits.

Once they arrived at the Academy, Herumi's absence was noted and ignored. The girl was late more often than not anyways, and after that nighttime walk, surely her friend had just slept a little too long. Stealing the swings with a combination of charm and intimidation, provided mostly by Jomei (all bright-eyed smiles and sharp, glinting smirks, and Emiko had to admire that girl), the three girls settled into their spots as Nina and Tetsumi headed towards them. Tetsumi didn't even need to speak for Jomei to squish into a swing with Emiko and leave the other swing open for Tetsumi and Nina to share.

If Herumi had been there, Chisaki would have had a partner to sit with as well. As it was, she wasn't, and so she didn't.

The girls exchanged their opinions on the homework assignment ("Piece of cake, really. Family trees? We've got family forests."), the other gender ("Most of them are idiots." A chorus of agreement.), and Herumi's absence ("That's self-explanatory," Tetsumi deadpanned.). They moved on and were dicussing their family trees assignment again when Ryū dashed into the Academy playground with a wild look in his eyes.

Ryū was swarmed by his friends, but he pushed through to where the girls were sitting instead. Tetsumi raised her eyebrows, but Jomei stood up to receive him (like a queen, Emiko couldn't help thinking, even as she worried and wondered). Emiko could see her best friend's thoughts easily – Jomei was humoring him, figuring that if he'd gone off the deep end then the rest of them needed time to get out.

Ryū's next words made her forget about allegations of insanity completely. "Herumi's dead." For a crystalline moment, everything froze. Emiko swore her heart stopped, and she couldn't feel any blood in her face. Then, time sped up, and the wrath of five kunoichi-in-training descended upon poor Ryū, as they all made the same assumption; that he was playing a prank on them. And the Heiress Five did not appreciate being made fun of.

Jomei had the satisfaction of the first punch, and Emiko almost resented her for it, as Ryū had reacted quickly enough to block her and Nina's throws, and partially stop Chisaki's. Obviously, Tetsumi had managed to get through his defenses as well.

"I'm not joking!" Ryū hissed at them. "Lies," Emiko hissed back without pausing to think. She wasn't usually this violent or quick to judge – but Herumi was near and dear to her heart, and Ryū was feeding her a pack full of lies, and that she would not stand for.

Her denial was more vehement than anyone else's, even Jomei's – her Uchiha friend had crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes. Emiko read denial in Jomei's eyes, but a sort of deep, deep knowledge that it was true; and this was what made her believe that it was true as well, because Emiko was the kind to take strength from others, to form opinions off of another.

Her stomach sank, her cheeks flushed – her mouth opened, just a bit, and Emiko wanted to cry. Had it been the bandits? Could ninja, even missing-nin, stoop that low? Herumi had been nine and short for her age, making her look younger. Emiko hated herself for thinking 'had been' instead of 'was' already, like Herumi was dead for sure when she hadn't even seen the body as of yet or been told it was true by an authority figure.

"How would you know?" Jomei asked, and in her haze of confusion, Emiko could only marvel that her friend had kept herself together enough to be suspicious enough to ask this. Behind her, she could feel sympathetic glances from the rest directed towards Jomei and her suspicion – they had accepted it, and while Chisaki and Nina looked as stricken as she was, Tetsumi, the one who should have been most affected, the one who had been friends with Herumi first; Tetsumi's face was stonier than Jomei's.

Emiko could see a bit of doubt creep into Jomei's expression now – none of them were backing her up like usual, and while Jomei was the shining sun that could stand on her own, this sun needed fuel, and that came from her stars. Ryū looked gravely back at Jomei, and Emiko watched.

His wild insanity was gone, replaced with a maturity and coolness she didn't recognize. It chilled her – the coolness on his face was the ruthless, uncaring kind. Emiko would say he was in shock, but she herself was too, so how could she judge? Ryū finally replied, "I'm so sorry, Jomei." Then, flatly, "They put her body up in the square."

Emiko fell to the ground and covered her ears and closed her eyes tight because she could visualize it too well now, Herumi's head lolling to the side, lifeless, and dangling in the square off some high building – her house?

The thought made her want to retch, and she almost did, for a second. Through this haze of disgust, she had somehow managed to open her eyes, and saw pure disdain and contempt on Jomei's face. Behind her, she could vaguely hear her friends moving through her hands, and she was almost dragged up by Nina and Tetsumi before Chisaki stepped in.

In that moment, Emiko couldn't have been more grateful for her cousin. Jomei looked hollow and apathetic, and it scared her. Jomei's mouth began to move, and Emiko took her hands off her ears to hear her friend talk. "They'll take it down," Jomei said.

Emiko didn't believe that for a second. What missing-nin would be kind enough to do such a favor for them? Herumi was a symbol, an icon. She was meant as a threat, and even Emiko-taken-by-grief could understand this sort of maneuver.

The bell rang and echoed within the confines of her head, jarring her out of her thoughts and drawing her attention away from what was happening. They all stood and moved numbly to the school building, and all Emiko could think was this – how could such an auspicious morning turn so bad?

* * *

The rest of the day went by, and Jomei soon realized that Emiko needed support, and jolted out of complete numbness. At least, she tried. It didn't quite work out. Herumi had last been seen by Jomei, and she knew it. All through the day, she kept expecting shinobi to burst through the doors, and every horror story she knew about Ibiki and the T&I division ran through her head. Surely someone was investigating all of this; surely someone would connect the dots.

But the day ended normally, and aside from a monotone oral presentation, Jomei acted fairly normal as well. If you were asking her sensei, anyway. Her friends just took a good look at her and left well enough alone. When they were dismissed, Jomei had just begun to walk home with Chisaki and Sarada when she saw her father waiting for her.

Almost immediately, she froze.

Sarada had bounced off to talk to Boruto before Emiko walked off with her playmate, the two young voices rising and falling as they spoke. Tapping Chisaki on the shoulder, she gestured towards her father. A look of understanding passed over Chisaki's face. "Yeah, go." Chisaki gave her a little push. Her father raised an eyebrow, seemingly impatient, and a jolt of fear shot through her.

Impatience and Uchiha Sasuke didn't usually go well together. "Take care of Sarada," Jomei said and walked over to her father. He was unreadable, as usual. Hefting her backpack higher on her soulders, she followed her father towards wherever they were going. On the way through the village she opened her mouth once or twice to make conversation, but eventually thought better of it.

It was strange. Although she was by default closest to her father by virtue of birth order, they'd grown apart. As a young child, her father had been more open with his family. These days, she said it was because ANBU hadn't completely scarred him back then. She knew better than most about the effects of ANBU, and she was only nine.

(And wasn't that a pity? And wasn't that a tragedy? But shinobi were tragedies in every sense of the word.)

They were approaching the square, and Jomei tensed. Her father didn't react – did he know? Should she tell him? She didn't get a chance to make a decision before they were in the square with all the hubbub and commotion that Jomei usually experienced and loved but this time just made her stomach roll. There was a crowd around something looking up, and a dark feeling of dread curled up in her stomach.

Jomei knew what they were looking at, but her father obviously didn't, because he was frowning. Then, he seemed to realize all at one moment, and began subtly attempting to steer her away. He failed pathetically, because Jomei moved towards the crowd instead of away. A sort of morbid curiosity had taken over her body, and she finally reached her friend's body.

In a moment, she wished she'd never seen it. Herumi was beaten and broken and bloody and lifeless and all of a sudden her head was pounding and blood rushing and why could she not forget that image? Her eyes fluttered closed and yet the image of her dead friend's body was literally burning into the backs of her eyelids.

Jomei opened her eyes again, and for some reason, people were staring at her and flinching away. Herumi's head lolled to one side and strung up on a building, the missing-nin guards stalking around her, chakra glowing, distinguishing them from the civilians around her, with their strangely pale, dispersed chakra. Then her hands clenched into fists. She had unknowingly fallen to her knees, and her father was next to her. What she saw only confirmed her half-crazed theory.

She hadn't completely lost her mind. Her father the ANBU captain was fairly glowing with chakra, dark and crackling like a thunderstorm. Only one thing could conceivably let her see that – the Sharingan. She could only imagine what her eyes looked like to others.

"I got my Sharingan," she whispered through chapped lips. Her father was unreadable, but he did reply, pulling her up (not gentle, but not rough, because Uchiha Sasuke was not kind and he did not pity, but he did love his daughter) as he did so.

"You did. It's two tomoes," he said almost casually, but just like her father was almost kind and that didn't fool her, his almost-casual remarks didn't either. Jomei had read in the family library – even her father had only started out with one tomoe. It was rare for an Uchiha to start with two, but not unheard of.

No longer looking at the dead body, Jomei could feel her eyes deactivating. It was like a muscle that she'd just learned to flex, but as natural as breathing. Her father had somehow managed to get her home and left her in her room. Jomei curled up on the bed, breathing softly. The image of her dead friend's body returned, and she suddenly sprang up and ran to the bathroom so she could retch what felt like her spleen out.

Whatever her 'spleen' was.

After that, she methodically went through the motions of getting ready to sleep, even though she knew it was barely five in the afternoon and she hadn't had dinner. Jomei had no intentions of facing her family that night. Her cats had padded silently into the room at some point and were keeping their silent vigil. Homura snuggled into bed with her, while Koujo and Kiki sat by the door and on the windowsill, respectively. The sun had set, and a full moon rose high.

Jomei slept and tried to forget.

 _The next morning_

When Jomei woke up, both Koujo and Kiki were perched on the foot of the bed, and Homura was on the windowsill, looking outside. Jomei sighed and rolled out of bed. To get to the bathroom she had to leave her bedroom, and she had missed dinner last night. She needed food. Her cats sensed her mood and crowded around her feet. Once she was in the bathroom, she looked at herself in the mirror.

Narrowing her eyes, she activated the Sharingan. She'd only ever seen her father's Mangekyō before, and it was strange to see a Sharingan in her own eyes. They were entrancing, she decided. Entrancingly dangerous, and the slightest bit jarring. Swirling red and black reflected at her in the mirror, two tomoes prominent. Jomei deactivated them and drifted through the rest of the day.

The parts of her day that stood out: telling Chisaki about her Sharingan on the walk to school ("Alright," she'd shrugged, and Jomei had smiled), Emiko's reaction at the swings (a look of sympathy, but no words), Tetsumi and Nina in separate notes passed to them in class (uncaring shrugs, and perhaps her timing was a little off, since Herumi had just died).

Her father showing up in the morning in their classroom, to talk to Shino-sensei. Judging by the file they pulled out, they were updating her information. The form they were filling out she hadn't been able to catch a glimpse of, but her new Sharingan was at her disposal, and she carefully activated it while hidden behind a book.

Sudden clarity – she could see the chakra of every student in the classroom, she could follow the motions of her father's pen as he wrote (Sharingan with two tomoes, he wrote, and then triggered by death of a friend, before moving on to clan kekkei genkai.) and checked boxes. Her father had begun to turn his head (sensing her eyes upon him, perhaps?) and Jomei hastily deactivated and began reading.

Jomei had felt his gaze burning into her, but she was a master of ignoring that gaze. He had left soon after, and if you pressed Jomei about the rest of that day, she wouldn't be able to give you an answer.

* * *

A/N: I'm sorry if this feels too much like it's centering on Jomei? I'm going to make an interlude where they all react to Herumi's death because this chapter somehow became super heavy Jomei and less everyone else. Please review, flames will be used for my fireplace.

-amazonqueen03


	6. Interlude

**Interlude: Their Reactions**

 _How six became five_

* * *

 _Emiko_

That night, Emiko was a mess. She'd managed to pull herself together enough to get Boruto home without them being killed by those missing-nin near their house (and how had Konoha not gotten rid of them yet?), but as soon as she got home, she was met with long hallways of silence and Boruto's bright blue eyes blank and him tilting his head up at her to ask, "Emiko-neechan, what was that?"

That was too much for her, and Emiko had just sort of blanched and reddened at the same time, and told him that it was nothing important, that he should just go to his room and work on his homework. Boruto had left her well enough alone, the little darling, and Emiko had collapsed onto her bed and cried, and cried, and cried.

She'd seen Jomei from her window, collapsing in front of Herumi's body (and it was a horror that she could see her dead friend's body from her bedroom window) and suddenly gaining the Sharingan. Emiko had seen Uchiha Sasuke carry his daughter out of the square and then Body Flicker away, and she didn't blame him.

(She'd also seen a flash of blonde hair, out of the corner of her eye, but dismissed it.)

Emiko felt numb, and she wouldn't be surprised if Jomei did too.

She hadn't been able to sleep – had eaten dinner with her mother and Boruto and Himawari and while her mother tried to inquire in a sort of roundabout way about how she felt without Boruto or Himawari catching on, Emiko was a fairly decent faker (liar, liar, pants on fire) and her mother didn't press her. Her father had been outside all night, within yelling distance if she opened her window.

Uzumaki Naruto was the Seventh Hokage first and her father second, and Emiko respected that. She hadn't spoken, had watched blankly as he managed to get rid of each of the bandit guards (because missing-nin were one thing, but their Hokage was his own different level of shinobi altogether) and then taken down the body himself.

For some reason, that had made Emiko look away. When she looked back, her father was gone, presumably to find whatever the name of the place was where they put dead bodies. The next day, Emiko felt like she was in shock.

She swore that she could see Herumi – just around the corner, a swing of her friend's hair out of the corner of her eye, swore sometimes that she could hear Herumi – laughing or cheering, just like she used to. Emiko pretended that Herumi was just sick at home, or something, still alive, because even though she had seen the dead body, she refused to believe it.

That night, Emiko was exhausted beyond measure. She hadn't slept for all of last night, and she didn't plan on sleeping tonight either. Before she'd gone to her room after dinner, her father had pulled her into his study for a nice sit-down chat.

Emiko felt like the exact opposite of 'nice'. Her father had spoken about things like 'grief' and 'death', and how he had gone through loss when he was very young as well, and that losing a friend hurt but she would get over it one day, and it was at that moment that he'd said exactly the wrong thing. "Get over it?!" she shrieked. Then, realizing who exactly she was talking to ( _Hokage first, father second,_ pounded through her head) she slouched back in her seat, instead of sitting with her back ramrod straight as it had been before.

"Herumi was my friend," she said earnestly. "I won't forget her."

Apparently, never going back on her word was something her father could respect, because he hadn't said anything more.

* * *

 _Chisaki_

In a place like the Hyūga manor, silence was golden. It was the kind of place that should stifle someone like her – someone who took more after her mother than her father. Her mother was bright, and lively, and vibrant, while her father was a stark contrast; muted to her mother's bright, calm to her mother's liveliness, and stoic to her mother's vibrancy. Chisaki never doubted that he loved them (what kind of father didn't?) but she also never expected him to show it.

The day she found out about Herumi's death, she took it admirably well, in her opinion. Herumi had been like a little sister, and the kind of vibrant that her mother was. But when her death had been announced – her stomach had plummeted to her toes, and for the rest of the day, Chisaki kept hallucinating that Herumi was behind her, or just outside of her sight.

When she walked home, Sarada at her side, Chisaki had gone out of her way to drop off Jomei's little sister at home. The Uchiha manor might have intimidated her – but she lived in a compound that was just as big, if not bigger, and so she turned around and walked home, all on her lonesome.

Her mother was home – Hyūga Tenten was a jonin sensei, these days, and Chisaki knew she was one of the few girls among her group of friends that could have so much time to spend with her mother. The look on her mother's face, drawn and pale, was out of character for her, and Chisaki's own face mirrored it.

"She's dead, isn't she," Chisaki said flatly, and Hyūga Tenten nodded, eyes looking just as lost as Chisaki felt. Chisaki's mother had survived a war at the tender age of 17 - her mother was no weakling, and yet (and _yet_ ) Chisaki felt like this was a moment of hardship for them both.

Chisaki collapsed, and her mother caught her.

"She's dead," she whispered again, and her mother nodded again, stroking her hair. "I know, Chisaki." Chisaki leaned her head against her mother's shoulder and closed her eyes. She was nine years old, and vibrant, and creative, but right then, she felt three, or four, or five, all at once.

The loneliness she felt reminded her of what life was like before Emiko and Jomei – before them, six year old Chisaki had been unable to have many friends unrelated to her. Jomei and Emiko had been her gateway to the rest of the six (the _five_ now, her mind whispered), had been a gateway to real, true, lasting friendship.

Well. Until Herumi had gone and _died_ on them, and Chisaki irrationally blamed it all on her friend. If only she hadn't gone to the forest, if only her parents had been home, if only –

(if only, if only, if only, but Herumi hadn't, and now she was _dead-)_

Chisaki sighed as her mother left her in her room to pull herself together. She suspected that it was also an opening for her mother to try and figure out a way to see if her father was back yet; Hyūga Neji was the kind of clan head that was in and out all the time, either travelling for clan purposes or for top secret classified ANBU missions.

Last she'd heard, her father was getting patched up in the hospital, but Chisaki wasn't too worried. Jomei's mother was the top medic, and the best in the world. She didn't doubt that her father would be fine as long as he was being healed by either Sakura-basan or a medic underneath her, because she had undying faith in Sakura-basan.

(if Sakura-basan had been there when Herumi was killed, would her friend still be alive?)

Her father slipped into her room, silent like the ANBU Falcon he was (they all pretended she hadn't seen him beaten and bloodied with his mask dangling on his belt in the middle of the night, but she knew, _she knew)_ and stood, no words spoken. All he did was offer his presence, and that was all Chisaki wanted from him right now.

She didn't need any drivel about loss and grief coming from him. Hyūga Neji was considered by many to be an emotionless ice cube, and Chisaki wouldn't say anything to the contrary. ANBU Captains did not, as a rule, get this worked up about a death. Death was commonplace for shinobi everywhere; it was just children that didn't do well with it.

Chisaki was a child, and she wasn't doing well with death right now. Irrationally, she felt a surge of anger at _everything_ – her life, the bandits, Herumi, her father. "Get out," she snapped at him, and to his credit, Hyūga Neji did as he was told and got out.

(Hyūga women were strong people, and Hyūga Neji had learned his lesson from Tenten already.)

She never did apologize, and he never asked for her to; Hyūga, as a rule, did not do anything as trite as apologize to each other.

* * *

 _Tetsumi_

Nara Tetsumi was nowhere near as emotionless as her face was. She could pretend, she could stay awake for ages, she could do anything and everything if she had the motivation, at the tender age of nine. But she was not devoid of emotion, and Herumi's death had rattled her.

Tetsumi was numb, and she didn't intend on letting anybody know that. It was like a painkiller gone bad; it had kicked in when she needed it, but it had stayed and lingered for the rest of the day, and by the time she was walking home with Shikadai, she still hadn't completely recovered from the news of Herumi's death.

Tetsumi was a skeptic – she refused to believe in something with no evidence to back it up. If Ryū had been crying wolf, he'd have hell to pay, she thought darkly as they stepped through the door of their house. She'd kill him herself, laws be damned, because saying that her best friend was dead when she wasn't was a grievous crime.

Her mother was in the house, and Tetsumi faltered. Nara Tetsumi and Nara Temari did not, as a rule, do much talking about feelings. They did not discuss what it was like to hear that your friend was dead; they did not discuss much at all besides trite, ubuquitous things like the weather or how training was going.

"Tetsumi," her mother said,sharp and commanding like the elite jonin she was. Tetsumi stopped on the stairs, sighed, and turned around to face her mother. "Sit down." Tetsumi did so, sliding into a chair at the kitchen table, grey-green eyes trained on her mother. She felt like what Ryū had told her was about to be validated, and she didn't like it.

An eyebrow arched, a silent show of impatience. Her mother sighed and leaned forward, putting her elbows on the table. "Your friend Herumi's dead," she said, and it was just then that Tetsumi remembered that her mother was best friends with Herumi's parents and maybe, just maybe, this had impacted her mother as much as it had hurt her.

"Your father isn't coming home tonight," her mother said, and it rang like a death knell inside her head. "Of course not," she replied dully, and stood up abruptly. "I'll be going to my room, then." Without waiting for an answer, Tetsumi turned around and went up the stairs to her bedroom. She didn't plan on staying there, of course.

When she got there, she immediately popped the window latch and opened the window. A glance back over her shoulder to make sure nobody was there, and she climbed out of the house. The Nara forest bordered the entire compound, and she was going to spend the next few hours of free time in there, with the deer and the trees and the grass, where none of them could see her or judge her.

Pitied Chisaki, really. The girl had all that space and yet, couldn't hide from her family's all-seeing eyes. The same went for Jomei; ghosts and phantoms and memories outnumbered living people in that district of hers, and there was no place to hide.

Tetsumi laid on her back in the middle of the forest, and stared up at the sky.

* * *

 _Nina_

Yamanaka Nina had known about Herumi's death earlier than both Tetsumi and Chisaki. For one, the Yamanaka clan's compound was very close to the square; she walked through it every day with Inojin, pulling him away from enticing market displays of candy and toys. She wasn't embarrassed to admit that she had followed Jomei and her intimidating father through the village to the square, Inojin in tow. Nina had been smart enough to tell him to look at the toys and candy for a bit while she drifted off on her own, and a sort of morbid, magnetic pull had made her walk towards the crowd around what she knew to be Herumi's dead body.

Why did she try to torture herself like this?

(not _trying_ when it was, really, but Nina was from a family in the business of lying dressed up in lace)

And when she saw it, Nina froze in her spot, death knell though that was with these crowds and her height. Because Herumi, somehow, had more of a morbid, macabre beauty in death than she had ever had living with blood in her cheeks and laughing, vibrant eyes. Herumi was tainted by the hands of the Shinigami, now, but that death god had been kind, and had given her the kind of pale, bloodless beauty Herumi had never had.

But at the same time, Nina found herself longing wholeheartedly for the Herumi of just yesterday; laughing and happy and cheerful, optimistic about life and her future, certain that she would live to see tomorrow, and the day after that, and years and years after because she was nine and nobody killed nine year old children.

(Nobody _normal_ , anyways, but missing-nin weren't normal to begin with.)

Through a gap in the pressing crowd, she could see Jomei collapse to the ground, and suddenly, the crowds around her began to melt back and away, back towards where Inojin was standing, innocent child that he was, crushing him, and Nina could feel herself begin to panic.

Konoha was a village full of good people, but Inojin was only six, and why had she left him to look at toys by himself? Nina turned sharply on her heel (and was that a glimpse of Emiko, high up like Rapunzel in the tower that was the Hokage's Residence?) to head back for Inojin, blonde hair flying out like a whip behind her.

Kami-sama, if her brother was crushed by the notorious crowds of Konoha, she'd never hear the end of it from the rest of the world. As soon as they got over Herumi's death, they'd be facing Inojin's, and it was this thought that spurred her to move faster through the crowds, ducking and weaving back to the stall where she had left her brother looking at a display of temari. As soon as she saw that little blonde head, she sighed in relief.

Still there. Good.

Grabbing his hand (a little too harshly, in retrospect), she said, a little sharply, "Come on, Inojin. We're leaving." To his credit, he had grown used to powerful women, and followed along as she tugged him along to the Yamanaka compound.

If Nina never had to see a dead body again, it would be too soon, because to tell the truth, that fascination had scared her. What kind of girl, even a shinobi girl, _liked_ dead bodies, macabre though the love may be? At this rate, she'd be one of those shinobi that laughed every time they killed someone and had to go in for psych check-ups all the time, but never got discharged because they had good connections and good skills.

Nina had heard that at some point, the minimum sanity requirement fell very low, especially for jonin. So if she could make it to jonin, she was good.

Jonin felt a long, long way away right now, though, and as she stepped over the threshold of the house and inhaled its unique scent (freshly floral and waxy sharp at the same time; a true mix of Yamanaka flower shop and her father's artistry), she saw her mother's blonde hair in the kitchen.

Nina didn't want to talk about Herumi's death right now, not when she felt sure that out of her friends she and Tetsumi were functioning the closest to normality and she was just about to completely crush those spectral feelings about cadavers to some locked filing cabinet deep within her psyche. Talking to a trained interrogator right now would just ruin all her work.

Sometimes, having a mother who was a psychologist and an 'information extracter' (torturer, really, but that wasn't acceptable to society) at the same time was helpful. Most of the time, it was just very annoying, because Nina was at the point in her life where she wanted a little something called _privacy_ , and she could not get that when her mother could literally read her mind on a whim.

Not that she would, but that was beside the point.

"I'm going to my room," she called out in a voice full of fake cheer, and decided to make a break for it before her mother could stop her. It worked, mostly, but when she got upstairs, she found her father perched on the bed, sketchbook on his knees.

Talking to a man with literally no emotions (or no way to express them verbally, which amounted to about the same thing, for Nina) wasn't going to help her in this instance either, and Nina fake-smiled at him as well. It was a good thing he couldn't tell the difference.

At least, she thought he couldn't, but Nina in general underestimated her father.

"I need to do my homework," Nina improvised, "so could you please get out of my room?" Her father raised an eyebrow and said no more, but left to leave her to her 'homework'. They both knew she was lying, but neither of them were going to point it out.

When Nina sat on her bed in the same place her father was, she noticed the piece of paper lying on the duvet next to her – a misty gray sketch that was eerily photographic in its accuracy, of Nina glancing back over her shoulder, smile on her face, school bag in hand, evidently on the first day of school.

Blonde ponytail in place, outfit perfectly picked out; those details didn't matter in the sketch, because her face was vibrantly happy and there wasn't even a hint of cynicism or bitterness in that six year old face, because six year old Nina had not yet felt what it was like to be the weakest in your friend group, had not yet realized that those strange expressions her father made were in fact, strange, had not yet realized that her parents whispered about their children late at night.

Had not yet seen Herumi's corpse and felt like it was beautiful.

Nina only wished she could be that happy, innocent child again.

* * *

A/N: Wow that was super depressing. My brain is goooooone. Hope you enjoyed this interlude! Please review, constructive criticism is appreciated, flames will be used in my fireplace. Thanks for reading all the way here, have a nice day~

-amazonqueen03


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